79th Annual Hunger Games: A change in the rules
by leavesinlight
Summary: There has been a twist in the game this year. Because Catching Fire never happened and the rules have shifted for more interesting games.
1. The Announcement

"Your first games Mrs. President." the attendant says making final adjustments to the Woman's outfit a formal fitted black number with a stiff collar and cuffed sleeves that makes all her features even more pointed. "Should be fun"

The President chuckles at the thought. "Fun?" the last few Games had been wholly uneventful, boring even. Though the general public hadn't seen them that way (Though one never became the President of Panem for being average) But not this year, not at all, she had personally hired a new Gamemaker hand picked rom huge masses of geniuses. But this one had been her favorite. A young man named Gideon Darvius. Charismatic, smart, and deadly. This year would be the best yet she was sure. This year would not be fun, it would be entirely amazing she was sure.

"You're set to be on in 5 minutes Madam" the attendant speaks again his voice just a little too cheery and high pitched "Five minutes. Just stay loose and have a good time" This one (She thought his name might be Dismond or Duggory) was getting on her nerves. Too chipper. She would have him fired, for firing was not something for a President to do.

She stands a few feet away from the pedestal on which a beautiful golden crown sits and next to that, a second just the same. Two crowns for two victors these are the rules for a year like this.

She hears the anthem play. A solemn man leads her to the podium when a thundering omnipresent voice announces "Now the President of Panem, Valencia Mortar. She looks at the teleprompter and starts to speak. To be honest this is why she was elected. Not for her looks (geometric face dark hair slicked back into a bun, her skin very smooth from sugary but otherwise nothing special) it wasn't for brains because, though she is brilliant, the population is not in it for smartness, and it is certainly not for charm. The president was elected because she could speak Some said she could convince a rock to vote for her. She was an individual gifted with the power to move others with words alone and she could wield that power with deadly precision.

So even for those who had heard the opening words dozens of times, it was new from her. Her voice made them new, added excitement for the luck capitulates and fear in all the district households.

She spoke of the glory of winning of the great things that would happen this year, the spiel that had been given for over 80 years. But then it differed.

"As some of you may have noticed there is not one but two crowns behind me."The reason is that the rules have shifted. Now two victors may be crowned if they are of the same district. Some of you may remember a similar situation from a few years ago, but know that it will be much more interesting this year." From around the capitol residents gasp at this news, a change in the rules? This is unheard of is it even legal?

She continues "The reapings will begin at noon tomorrow so to all those in the pool Good luck" the world knows what comes next her tone becomes almost icy "and may the odds be ever in our favor"

The anthem played and the 79th annual Hunger Games began.


	2. Tribute Form

**Tribute form (feel free to submit more than one):**

Name:  
Age:  
Height:  
Weight:  
District:  
Job:  
Race:  
Skin:  
Eyes:  
Scars:  
Hair:  
Other features: (Please elaborate, be as detailed as possible)  
Personality:

Siblings:  
Status in district:  
Parents:  
Other important family members:  
Home life:  
Friends:  
Lovers:  
Enemies:  
Reaping outfit:  
Token?:

Reaped or Volunteer:

Romance (in the arena)?:  
Any alliances?:

Skill in water?:  
Skill making a fire?:  
Other basic survival skills?:  
Speed (1-10):  
Strength(1-10):  
Agility (1-10):  
Knowledge (1-10):  
Special skills (at least 3):  
Weaknesses: (at least 2)  
Weapon of choice:  
Other strategies:


	3. Tribute List

REAPINGS

District 1 (LUXERY GOODS)

Girl: Brooke Armana (18)

Boy: Flint Rye (17)

District 2 (MASONRY/STONE)

Girl: Dominica Stiles (16)

Boy: Logan Huntzberger (16)

District 3 (ELECTRONICS)

Girl: Electra "Lectra" Gerlan (14)

Boy: Cole Ashen (15)

District 4 (FISHING)

Girl: Summer Lockhart (15)

Boy: Clarke King (16)

District 5 (POWER)

Girl: Felicia Jobs (15)

Boy: Spense Adenthaw

District 6 (TRANSPORTATION)

Girl: Squirrel Callahan (15)

Boy: Porter Carnegie

District 7 (LUMBER)

Girl: Anisia "Annie" Lewis (17)

Boy: Jacob Hancock (18)

District 8 (TEXTILES)

Girl: Fleur Mrila (17)

Boy: Kilun Amril (18)

District 9 (GRAIN)

Girl:Bryn Scott (14)

Boy:Fon Isen (18)

District 10 (LIVESTOCK)

Girl: Evanlyn (Eve) Scott (14)

Boy: RESERVED

District 11 (AGRICULTURE)

Girl: Olive "Livi" Tallen (12)

Boy:Keenan Iken (14)

District 12 (MINING)

Girl: Colleen "Lena" Reyna

Boy:Hunter Whitmore


	4. The Reapings Begin

The Capitol awakes with an air of excitement. The tall metal towers and massive townhouses seem to shiver in anticipation. Today is the day, the day that the residents of Panem will get to see the tributes, the pick this year, and now, the teams. The Capitol elite will get to look at whom to sponsor for the first time. The others will already begin placing bets.

The telltale buzz of another Hunger Games really beginning. It rings in the Capitol as a happy note. The careers wait for a chance to spring on stage, the lower districts wait in terror for their next victims.

All across the twelve districts children wake with terrible feelings in the pits of their stomachs. Not all would prove necessary but 24 children would be picked, or volunteer for a chance, one shot for a crown.

But this year it was more, two chances. The tributes would size up their fellow, turned partner. They'd wonder if they could both make it together, if they might have a fleeting chance.

For some it would be a rite of passage, this reaping, for others, a cruel twist of fate. F some the odds would be in their favor, for some their only chance was a strong other, and for some that would not happen.

The Capitol grows quiet as the reapings are set to begin and as, in each district, one man or woman would rise and say. "May the odds be ever in your favor" and 24 boys and girls, would hope to God that they were.


	5. District 1: The Celebration

**Hey guys! The first reapings. I apologize for how long it took, I was gone for a few days. I need two District 2 tributes before I can write the next (obviously) so keep submitting (My limit for one person is 4). Todays tributes are Brooke Armana submitted by Katnissfire87654 and Flint Rye submitted by Bluebird1125. Thank you both for your wonderful submissions**

* * *

**Brooke Armana**

"Brooke, darling, it's time to get up." her mother, Rosa Armana, shakes her awake a big smile on her face. Sun is streaming through her curtains and she can hear the sizzle of bacon from downstairs which means her uncle is cooking breakfast for them. "Your outfit is on the dresser so hurry and get ready."

Brooke can hardly contain her excitement and leaps out of bed to grab her outfit. A blue tank top and a flowy skirt, it's not much but it looks good on her complimenting her thin (though hardly stickish) frame and dark skin. She pulls a brush through her hair, which is quite an ordeal because it's so long and thick. The brush is a tangle of black hair by the time she's done. And the bacon's done, so she heads downstairs to the kitchen. Turning back quickly to retrieve her locket which she almost forgot in the excitement. If all goes according to plan today, it will be her token.

She moves quietly across the tiled floor to practice sneaking up on people, like her brother Chris who is standing just down the hallway, she walks stealthily, almost feline in how she moves her body extending her leg carefully, avoiding the one squeaky square, and inching forward to where he is leaning on the Post at the top of the stairs calling down to their mother. She slinks forward and then nearly 6 feet away pounces on him from behind. She'd be worried about him tumbling down the stairs but he is so large that the hit barely sways him though he shouts in shock. She wraps her legs around his midsection and puts him in a headlock.

"The HELL Brooke!" he yells wrestling her arms.

"Brooke Armana is mere seconds away from claiming victory" she yells in her best announcer voice as he pretends to struggle against her. "Chris Armana stands no chance against her sneak attack" she pretends to pull out a dagger from her bag. "And she slits his throat she's done it, the cannon sounds and Brooke Armana is the victor of the 79th annual HUNGER GAMES!" she yells laughing.

He grabs her from behind and flips her over his head placing her on the step in front of him.

"Hey sis what the hell was that for?" but he's laughing too.

"Just practicing" she responds and mimes cleaning her "dagger" on her shirt "You'd better hope it's not for real."

He pushes past her down the stairs "I can't believe you are 18 years old and you still do that." he sounds exasperated "I grew out of that, long before I was your age." she snorts, "Anyways, what are you forgetting today is?"

She pretends to puzzle over it for a while adding in little "Hmmm"s and "Ummm"s for effect. "The day that all of Panem gets introduced to my awesome?" she plays.

"Guess again"

"Oh!" she rushes down the stairs and into the kitchen where her uncle stands at the oven flipping pancakes and her parents are at the table drinking coffee. "Happy anniversary!" she shouts and kisses them both on the cheek. Her father smiles his beard prickled smile at her mother.

Chris walks into the room behind her. "Something else _Brookie_" he uses her least favorite nickname.

"Oh yeeeeah." she says "Happy birthday to you too." she says it like it's nothing and he shoves her in the arm playfully. "Only joking, **Happy Birthday to you**!" she sings in her awful soprano "**Happy Birthday TOOOOOOOOOO YOOOOOO-**" he cuts her off by putting her in a headlock which she twists out of easily.

"So where's my present?" he asks loading up on eggs, pancakes, and bacon.

She follows suit, piling food onto her plate and kisses her uncle good morning. "Your present is getting to see your AMAZING little sister on the big stage ready to get on a train to the Capitol." she begins to shove food in her mouth at a pace that would suggest someone much hungrier than her.

Her uncle laughs "Slow down child, you will have plenty of time to eat on the train." her pace decreases by only a tiny amount. She just too excited to slow down, within minutes her plate is empty and she puts it in the sink.

She turns back to Chris "No, it's this." she pulls out a box and hands it to him. Inside is a tiny gold loop It doesn't look like much, but Chris is an inspector at the gems and precious metals department, he can see the tiny details inlaid in the ring. "I had it made for you" she continues "for your ear, to replace the tarnished one you wear."

"I love it Brookie" he says, admiring it.

"Oh and Mum and Dad." she pulls out another box from her satchel "This is for you, I painted it myself" its a bowl that she painted tiny delicate flowers on during her lunch breaks at work. it was one of the best things she had ever done. Which was saying something considering that she painted most of the porcelain gravy boats.

Her parents give her more kisses. And she notices an annoyed look on Chris's face.

"What is it Chris?" she asks

"What is what?"

"You look bothered, what is it?" she says again.

"Nothing." too quickly.

"No, spit it out Chris, what the hell is wrong?" she stares at him.

"Just that... " he almost tries to hold back. But he's never been good at that. "It's my birthday but all anyone is going to think of today is you. And I knew that was going to happen but it stinks that you just act all perfect." his voice rises "But you have to go be the perfect tribute daughter and run up and make sure that my day is not special."

She knew something like this was coming. The two of them can't get a morning of peace, and she can't help but retort.

"I'm so sorry that your birthday was so badly timed but that wasn't my fault." she is nearly shouting.

Her father interjects. "You two, we will NOT be having fights today. It is too good of a day for that." Brooke starts to shovel the food in her mouth just as quickly as before and clears her plate.

"I'm gonna go meet Markus and walk to the square okay Mama Papa?" she says after finishing. Hurriedly grabbing her bag and standing by the door.

"Okay sweetie" her mother smiles "You'll do us well on stage mija." she uses her old Spanish words which makes Brooke feel good about herself, Mama never uses mija unless she's really happy.

He father grabs her hand, "We're so proud of you sweet heart, get up there quickly before the other girls can" she kisses him on the cheek again and feels his prickle, the familiar poke of his beard "We'll see you in the Justice Building" She sees Chris's face again, and feels bad. It is his birthday after all, but he's not being all too nice either.

And with that she leaves and runs out of the house to find her boyfriend. She spots him waiting for her on the fence outside her house, he's tall and sort of dark like her but much stronger, she jumps into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck and giving him a kiss.

He puts his hand around her waist and they start walking to the square (even though the reaping and subsequent volunteering won't start for another hour.

"So, are you excited?" he squeezes her side. She nods vigorously.

"I've been training for ten years for this." she says "I can hardly believe that it's today."

He smiles, "Well you look lovely." she feels heat in her cheeks. Even the simplest words from Markus makes her blush.

There is a comfortable silence for a little while walking down the concrete paved road into town. They sit down on a bench about 3 blocks from the town square and he puts an arm around her shoulders, as the lazy traffic flows past. Nobody is buying though, not on reaping day. Peacekeepers stroll in pairs and she can see the tower of the Justice Building peeking up over the shops.

From her peripheral vision she can tell that Markus is looking at her, can feel his eyes on her and looks back.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks quietly.

"Volunteering?" she clarifies.

"Yes." his eyes search her face. "I know you've been training but... you understand right? You might die."

She nods "I know, but I think I can do it." she tries to smile "And I wouldn't leave you here by yourself. Who would tell you to change your clothes?" she laughs and smiles too but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I will do my best I promise." she tries to lighten him up, "But you'd better promise not to talk to Marcell while I'm gone." Marcell was a girl who Brooke hated, and one who was in love with Markus.

"I know you will." he wraps his other arm around her and pulls her closer and he chuckles "And I promise I won't, talk to her I mean". They stay like that for some time, she doesn't know though it's been a while judging from the suns new position. Nearly noon. She is about to get up when, from across the street she hears a familiar voice shout.

"C'mon you guys get a room." sounding comically exasperated. Brooke looks up to see her two best friends, Brynn (Tall exotic and beautiful with dark brown hair and really long legs) and Daisy (Shorter, with long blonde hair and very pale skin), coming to meet them. She straightens up and walks to meet them giving each of them a hug. Brynn was the one yelling at her.

"Oh my GOD," Daisy is her usual happy self "You must be so EXCITED" of course, in Daisy's mind, you should be excited about everything. "I can't believe I'm going to be friends with a winner!" she clapped her hands.

"Awwww, that's so sweet." Brooke responds. Brynn checks her gold plated watch.

"We have to go and sign in." she gives Brooke a wink "You two hurry up"

"We can wait!" Daisy says, oblivious as ever.

"No we can't" Brynn grabs the other girls arm and pulls her down the road.

Markus stands up and faces Brooke, "You're gonna do so well I know you will, I'll try and sneak in to see you off, tell them I'm one of your cousins,"

"Maybe not." she gets a devilish glint in her eye. "I wouldn't do this to my cousin." and she kisses him on the lips hoping to god it's not her last. Then they walk hand in hand, down to the square.

They wait in the crowd of 18 year old girls, Daisy, Brynn and Brooke all together. The escort gets up on stage gives her speech a long line of victors stretching behind her, almost filling the stage. The oldest is past 100, the youngest is 13 (last years victor) Though nobody really pays attention to what the woman is saying, too distracted by her hair that might literally be made of gold, until at last.

"Well, time to find out this years District 1 tributes." which is met with a huge roar of the crowd. "And maybe our TWO victors. Ladies first."

Brooke waits. She is in the best spot, right in front of the line, right next to the stage. But there will be a rush when the name is called. Time slows, they wait...

"Diamond Artor!" the speaker calls and is drowned out by the massive wave of "I Volunteer"s that follow. Brooke rushes up under the dividers, up the stairs and knows, she's the first. And runs to the microphone. But some girls haven't seen that she got there and are still fighting to reach the stage. It takes three Peacekeepers to settle them down, and one girl walks away with what is definitely a broken nose.

"And you are lovely volunteer" the gold haired woman says, trying to get everyone back on track "What is your name?"

"Brooke Armana." she says, without hesitation.

"Well Brooke, why don't we find out who your teammate will be?" she reaches into the bin and pulls out a boy named Denim who is immediately replaced by another boy named Flint, she knows of him, he's only a year younger than her. Tall and handsome and, from what she has heard, a massive flirt. He keeps trying to catch her eye, though only succeeds once and winks at her, She rolls her eyes the speaker calls. "These are your two Tributes of DISTRICT 1." and the crowd roars as they are led away. Flint plays the crowd holding his hands over his head like he's already a champion and pointing into the crowd at someone (Brooke doesn't know who)

Her mother and father come in, followed by Chris.

"Markus?"

"Afraid not mija." her mother says. "Good job sweetie. You're going to do so well." they hug tightly.

"Just be smart and stick with that Flint kid." her father. And gives her a kiss, she feels his beard and wonders if it's the last time.

Then it's her brother enveloping her in his big arms, making her feel like a child again (even though they fight a lot, at a moment like this they both need a hug). And for a moment, she is frightened, can feel the terror rise in her chest because now, there was no turning back. Tears prick her eyes but she buried them in her brother's arms and fights them away only resurfacing when she knows her face is clear and that she has a smile plastered on her face.

"See you soon." She says in her best most chipper voice, "And... um... happy birthday!" a Peacekeeper enters and she follows. Only once out does she remember her locket. The little heart with her family and true love inside. She grabs it and clutches to her chest. "God keep me safe" she prays quietly "I'm not ready to go yet."

Everything went according to plan.

* * *

**Flint Rye**

He's crouching behind a rock, there is a crunch of dirt further away, and he peeks up from behind the rock, trees obscure the walker, correction walkers (there are two) from view. He holds an axe in his hands, two daggers in his belt, a backpack with a sword and supplies.

Then he sneezes.

Swearing under his breath he pops his head up again. The walkers are running toward him, the male is in front, cursing at him and raising a sword high.

He stands and chucks the axe into one of the tributes, district 4 maybe, it embeds itself into his chest and he falls to the ground. Then the girl is racing toward him, and he raises a second axe. Only to be stopped by "But I can't hit a girl" then she is on him her sword coming up, raising high and plummeting back toward his skull about to sink in….

Flint wakes up, the same dream has been haunting him for months, from the moment he decided that he would be tribute. Taking out the boy, and being killed by the girl. What's worse, it's always a sneeze that gets him caught. And did he mention, he gets killed by a girl! It's almost insulting that his brain self would have him die in such an un glorious manner, and have him die at all for that matter.

Not that it matters anyways, it's only a dream. And yes, he will be in the arena soon enough and maybe he could die. But there isn't really a likelihood of that. He's been training for years, he likes to brag to whomever will listen that he started training 17 years ago, when he was less than a year old. This is of course, not true, but that isn't the point.

The morning routine is as usual, brush his teeth, gel up his hair into spikes, as usual, change into his reaping outfit which is jeans and a t-shirt because he honestly doesn't care what people think of how he dresses. He goes downstairs to eat breakfast and says hello to his mother who barely looks up from the television set, which is set on the capitol where the Caesar Flickerman is analyzing the previous night's announcement of potential dual winners. An idea he loves, and at least partially understands. Romance makes good television, and he is certainly willing to supply it.

From the courtyard outside he can hear grunting. The door swings behind him as he heads into the grass where his sister Lina is practicing with a bow on one of the many targets set up around the square area. He calls to her from the door.

"Why are you practicing" he begins to walk over "You aren't going to be in the games Lina."

She scowls at him "What makes you so sure?" she says brushing a strand of blond hair out of her eyes.

"Well for one you are only 14," he says and picks up an axe from the weapon rack. "And second," he hurls it at a dummy with deadly accuracy "You are my little sister and I would never let you do that."

She groans "You're SOOO overprotective." then she gives him a whack in the chest "And you're volunteering you little hypocrite."

What does that even mean? Flint doesn't much care, he doesn't really pay attention to insults. He also isn't good with words, unless they're pickup lines.

The rest of the morning is practice, the last bit he has before the training room, he doesn't have much left to hone, but it never hurts. He wants all of the other tributes to see him as a force to be reckoned with, and the other careers to see him as a strong ally.

Then all at once it is 10:00 and he runs to meet his friend Leo at the square. It is an annual tradition they have, to sit out and watch the girls who are all dressed up taking note of which ones they want to date next. This year it is made different by the fact that he is dead set on going, which meant he could have any girl he wanted when he came back. Not that he can't anyways. He is naturally attractive and isn't afraid to flaunt it which earned him the nickname "Flint the Flirt" a title he is perfectly alright with.

Leo is late, as per usual, but they sit on a fence and watch as the girls pass, barely hiding it. They love him anyways, and Flint swears he catches a few of them swooning, like a legit swoon. And other girls simply show off a bit under his gaze.

All is going well until Ruby Mallor appears. She is gorgeous (tanned skin and long strawberry blond hair) and his year at school, possibly the only girl who won't go out with him. He has been pursuing her for years (even when one of them had a boyfriend or girlfriend) but she always slipped away.

He whistles at her in a bright red dress that goes true to her name. She glares at him "Don't whistle at me you scumbag" she snaps.

He raises an eyebrow "Oh you'll come around eventually baby." he gives her a wink. Any other _normal_ girl would have fallen at his feet and be begging him to go out, Ruby just scoffs.

"What makes you think that I'd ever go out with you?" she taunts hands on hips beginning to walk away. By now some school friends have gathered around and are giggling. He sees many girls look jealously at Ruby.

"Baby, I'm gonna win these games." Flint calls "And I'm gonna win 'em for you, then you have to say yes."

She just flounces away, infuriating as ever. Leo elbows him in the side "Rejected." he whispers. Which earns him a hard elbow in the side.

"Only for now." Flint responds with a knowing smile. "Let's go check in." they do, he gets scanned by a woman with a pretty face and flashes a smile at her, she starts to blush. He does seem to have that power over women.

Once they enter the square they are filed into rows based on age and gender. Leo is younger for the grade, so he ends up in the 16 slot. Flint follows the rest of the 17 year olds into their area. The square is alive with excitement over the reaping. A time for celebration in their district. He mostly just wants to be done with it; get to a point where he can't turn back, his biggest fear is that he freezes up. But that's not a big worry, he never freezes up with girls and, well what's the difference really?

There is actually quite a large difference, but he prefers to think of it like they are the same.

The escort speech is just as long and boring as any other year. His anticipation just seems to make it longer. They finally pick the girls. He barely registers the name of his would-be partner when about a dozen more girls push through to get on stage. The victor is a girl named Brooke, and he is perfectly happy with that. She is hot in his opinion.

Now she's at the boys sinking a hand deep into the sphere of tickets, plucking one out and unfolding it, too slowly.

"Denim Garon!" she shouts and Flint's voice raises with "I volunteer!" he runs to the stage sprinting full out not bothering with the stairs and leaping right onto the front earning some laughter. But he's first on stage, he's the volunteer.

The escort looks at him and puts him on the microphone "And what is your name son?"

"Flint Rye." he starts to look in the crowd for one person, red a flash of red. Ruby, he makes eye contact raises his eyebrows and she looks away. Then he looks to his partner. She is pretty shorter than him by about two inches, long dark hair, distinctly foreign. She looks back at him for only a moment and he winks. Good impressions, especially for a beautiful woman like her. She doesn't seemed phased however.

The Peacekeepers are leading them off. He starts to rile up the crowd, no need not to get in a few likeable points in now.

They are led into thee Justice building. Separate rooms and he waits for the inevitable goodbyes. His parents and sister enter his mother and father not looking heart-broken. Which he was expecting. But they don't look particularly ecstatic either. He thinks they probably don't want to be too sad to see him die. Maybe he understands it. But he gives his sister a hug, at least she looks genuinely sad.

"You will win." she pokes him "You will I know it." he smiles at her. His favorite little sister.

"I will sis, I will." he nods and gives he a hug.

The Peacekeeper is back and pulls him out. Only then does he realize, he has not said goodbye to his parents. He also realizes that he doesn't care.


	6. District 2: A History of Victory

**Hello everyone, apologies for how very long it took to get this up. I won't try and please you with excuses because I don't really have one besides umm... time. Anyways, I am actually pretty busy just in life so unfortunately these chapters will not be coming out quickly or on a schedule. I will keep going but they will take time. I am also leaving in about 1.5 weeks and will be in Africa for 2.5 weeks where there will be no uploads at all. Please don't hate me. School starts for me soon after that so even then it will slow. But I promise to finish I do. Just bear with me and don't get too annoyed. If you read all of this HOORAY here is a little bonus for you. My favorite Hunger Games character is Foxface, I really wish I knew her name.**

**Today's tributes were submitted by kitkat1425 and CatosGirl23 thanks you two.**

**Dominica Stiles 16**

It is a red dress. It is red because red is strong, and she is strong. And nobody wants to go on the stage looking weak. So she chose red.

Dominica doesn't have to be introduced by waking up. She is almost always up because she has a gift. One where she can function on 3 hours of sleep as good, if not better, than most people on 8. And night is not for sleeping. At least it shouldn't be in her opinion. Her twin brother Dominic's greatest weakness is that he must sleep all night.

Anyways, the dress is red which is why she likes it. Red is her color, powerful, sleek, and deadly. It's the color of blood, fresh and still spilling, or pure flesh that she eats for dinner (though her mother insists on it being cooked.

The clock on the wall reads 2:47 and the little red hand ticking off each second. That's why she likes seconds; she likes to count them in her head, because the little hand is red so seconds are good and powerful and unstoppable like time itself.

The clock is also red though, as are the walls, the sheets (which are barely used) the chest of drawers. She has pictures that are all painted in red ink, of sharks (like the ones she saw in 4) and falcons and something called a lion which was in one of the games long ago. She likes the lion most. It has a lot of hair (all red of course) surrounding its face and is standing on a rock. There is another beast called a Zebra much further away. And the lion stalks it for food.

This is how she thinks of the games. Her as the lion, everyone else is the zebra. She knows that she will be the tribute this year, she knows that she will be the victor, there isn't any other way it could go, she is the second hand (red and powerful) you can't stop her from ticking.

She is currently transfixed by a mouse in the corner. This usually wouldn't interest her because she would usually kill a mouse. But this is a special mouse. It is not particularly special in shape or size, and it is nibbling on some crumb left on her floor, that is not either.

No, the mouse is special because it has white fur and red eyes. That is why the mouse is not dead. Her concentration only breaks after it turns away and she can't see the eyes anymore.

She gets up from the bed so quietly that the mouse doesn't even notice. Her feet make no sound as she pads delicately across the floor in her dress. She couldn't wait to put it on, it was too good to let wait till the morning. The skirt rustles in the silence while she makes her way to the door.

Catching a glimpse of herself in the dark mirror. Muscular, tall, with long dirty blond hair which she loathes and keeps it up so she can't see as much and the scar on her chin where she cut herself with a knife, trying to see what her own blood looked like. She has since done it many other times, though never in self-loathing. She does not cut herself out of pain, she cuts herself because she likes blood, and sometimes it is too much trouble to get into a fight. Taking the flashlight from its place on the dresser she leaves.

She is in the hallway now, down the stairs, into the atrium where a vase of flowers sits on a table by the door. The flowers are pink. It makes her angry she hates pink. Grabbing the vase off of the table she shakes the flowers out spattering water and petals across the granite floors.

Dominica walks over it in bare feet, feeling the water on her toes and smooshing one of the flowers into the floor. Then she is at the double doors great big mahogany with plenty of metal for decoration. Opening them quietly takes strength and skill, both of which she has from hundreds of nights of sneaking out.

It takes a lot of maneuvering, pushing a bolt so slowly that most wouldn't know it was moving. Finally the door is open, her feet touch the cold marble porch (made by the expert masons of their district), and she moves into the yard, out of the front gate (which doesn't take nearly as much time) and into the street, the circle of houses in the Victor's Village where they live due to her father's victory some 30 or more years ago.

She follows the cobblestone pathway down the street, stepping across the circles of light from the lightposts above, making her way to her favorite place, the one place where she isn't in constant danger of exploding. That is the forest, just up ahead a small dirt path off the road which she follows, switching on the flashlight (though only temporarily) waving it around and seeing the animals scatter at the light.

She walks deeper into the forest, bare feet hitting rocks and twigs, but the ground is damp underfoot and soft. The dress flows around her, snagging on branches which she carefully untangles from it careful not to rip the soft fabric. After about half a mile she reaches a massive boulder, one she is very familiar with. She turns right and next to it running her hand across the smooth surface and finding her carving in the side.

"Blood for victory" she scratched it into the surface 6 years ago when she was 10. the day she decided that she would one day be the victor.

Now she is here, so many years later, crouching near the north side of the boulder, reaching under, pulling from underneath a spear. The light has still not touched the sky.

In the pitch dark, split only by the beam of her flashlight, Dominica walks down the side of the hill, into a small valley where a clearing is. Then she switches off the light and waits until her eyes adjust. The waning gibbous moon, her only source of light, not much but enough for her.

This has been the routine for years, as she trains herself to kill at night. Each tree on the edge of the clearing (and some further in) are marked with a carved X. Some she slashed in with a dagger, others were drawn on with animal blood. She has been practicing hunting too.

The spear is in her hand as she walked to the middle of the clearing, a spot she had stood on so many times, that the grass had stopped growing back all together. She takes aim at the closest tree closes her eyes...

The faceless boy is only 50 feet away, he has his back turned in the darkness, she pulls the spear back ready to release and with a hefty throw buries itself deep into his back. The boy falls, dead on the spot, his blood welling at the point of impact. She retrieves the shaft quickly. The others have taken notice are running away, she throws it at one clear across the field, a good 100 ft or more, brings her down with a shot to the head, before running to collect the spear once more.

Hours later, all the foes are dead and dead again and again. The bodies litter the ground, blood still flowing from some, sweet red blood she can smell the victory. This is what it smells of, blood, sweat, dirt.

She opens her eyes.

The sun is peeking up at the horizon, pinkish yellowish tendrils seeping into the air. She grabs the spear a last time and hides it under the rock again.

She won't be back here for more than a month (though she will return of course) but old habits die hard. She races along, fast as she can the undergrowth whipping her bare feet, stinging the skin, though she hardly takes notice. She is out of the path again Onto the street into her yard up the grass and into the house through the crack she left in the door. The massive clock reads 5:50, and she runs up the carpeted stairs to her room stripping down her red dress and putting on pajamas then jumps into bed. Ten minutes later her mother, Drusilla, enters and shakes her "awake."

"The reaping starts in 6 hours Dominica." she says taking the dress off of its hanger "You must start getting read- WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOUR DRESS!"

Dominica sits up acting tired and looks at the dress as if not knowing. There are rears in the skirt from running through the woods and dirt and leaves as well. She curses herself for not cleaning it up more.

"I don't know mother." she lies "Maybe Dominic is just playing one of his jokes again."

"You went outside again last night didn't you?" she accuses. "Don't lie to me Dominica"

"Yeah mother I did." she admits, her mother is one of the only people that can catch her lying "So what? I was only training."

"In your dress?" she sounds exacerbated 'The nice new one we bought you too"

"What does it matter Mother?" Dominica replies, feeling pretty annoyed herself "It's not like we're going to run out of money!" They won't it's true, not in the house of a victor.

"But you will go on stage looking like a mess, like someone much lower. Think of what dishonor that will bring."

"It will be made up tenfold when I win, MOTHER" her voice is venom.

"And you can't win without sponsors. And what will their first impression be? You a dirty peasant girl" she spits. If anyone wondered where the attitude came from, it was pretty clear. Her father was comparatively mild mannered, even as a victor. Which becomes pretty clear when he is next to his wife.

Dominica has had enough and it becomes almost necessity for her to leave, even just n mind. She can see the red tinting the corners of her eyes, and she stoops down in the space between her bed and the wall and rolls herself into a ball, blocking her ears and humming a tune, she doesn't know where it came from

"The itsy bitsy spider" she sings softly "went up the waterspout" her vision is getting dimmer "Down came the rain." darker and darker "And washed," Done.

The light is up when she comes out of her stupor. It must have been many hours as the sun is quite high. She is tentative in moving, her limbs stiff from her squeezed position and also knowing that her mother's wrath would be upon her if she is found now. She can hear the rumble in her stomach and weighs the benefits and potential risks of getting food now, eventually settling that she will eat on the train after becoming tribute. Anyways, she has to meet Cornelia outside of the Justice Building. It was a promise.

She takes off down the stairs and out of the house. Or that is the plan at least because her brother Dominic is in the way. A tussle ensues as per usual, friendly of course because, as much as Dominica likes to chew out her brother (and she does, a lot), he is her twin and she is certainly closer with him than most people.

The line is long when she reaches the courtyard snaking past the nearby shops down nearly a block. Even though there is still a good 45 minutes till the ceremony. She spots Cornelia's bright red hair from a distance away and slips in next to her (the hair was what made them friends in the first place, and after that it was mostly a mutual bond of not being very good socializers and then eventually it became very close to a friendship). The boy behind them shouts some vulgarities at her but she just turns to glare at him. Even though he is probably 18, he immediately shuts up.

Cornelia smiles a greeting (because there is no way that the two are going to hug.) "I guess this is the last time I get to see you for a while?" she says. She is 15 so they won't be together in the square. "Think of me in the arena okay?" she says. And Dominica promise tom and intends to keep it. Then the redhead begins to talk. That is mostly what Cornelia does and Dominica listens. This is how it goes, because Cornelia knows how little the other girl likes to talk.

She discusses (through a rather one-sided debate) whether she should try to volunteer next year. And Dominica laughs inwardly at the thought. She tries so hard to train and be a gppd fighter. But she's never had the spirit, or the nerve.

The line snakes forward, the two get in line Dominica stares as the ID prick hits her skin and watches the blood well up at the tiny hole. Transfixed at the glistening dot that grows in her hand before Cornelia pats her on the shoulder and says goodbye as they are herded into the separate lines.

There is a shove from behind her. She turns, and realizes instantly that the line will be anything but peaceful. Flavia is the last girl she wants to see. Her hair is red like Cornelia's (though cornelia is closer to ginger than Flavia) and this sprouts loads of jealousy already, apart from that, they are both strong, quick, hot-headed, and skilled. In other words, the perfect tributes. Some said that they could be best friends, Dominica punches some people very hard in the stomach.

"You planning on volunteering eh little Domi?" Flavia asks sounding sickeningly condescending.

'indeed dear Flavia." she tries her best to sound like Flavia is nothing more than a bothersome child.

"Oh dear, well there's a problem there." the redhead continues "Because I am too you see, and I think I" she attempts to shove Dominica (and fails) ending up merely sidestepping her "Am closer to the stage."

"That matters not." she replies, "I could beat you, and anybody else, to the stage from the back of the stage."

"Then why don't you?" Flavia taunts.

"Because I am not stupid, dearest," she says and turns away "I will leave these games the victor and you will not mess that up"

The male escort reaches the stage and tests the microphone, the line of past tributes fills two lines on the stage. Districts 1 and 4 may be careers, but district 2 is the home of true champions.

A long boring speech about pride and honor. Dominica has heard is so many times from her father she can mouth it along with the woman (So two tributes will be found in our District, and they alone will use all of their wits and skills to win, for the honor of their families, and their homes), it replaced the bedtime stories in the household, it was the motivation for the twins to train so hard, and fight, for them to compete. Of course, she always won, but her brother made competition, and never let up.

The speech continues differently now...

"And this year our two tributes will have a chance to return home, DUAL-VICTORS."

She doesn't really care about it. She is going to win no matter what, be it with someone else or not. She isn't going to make herself responsible for anyone else just because of some dumb rule.

Then it is finally time, "Now, ladies and gentlemen, let us find out this years TRIBUTES" says the man on stage, his hand dips into the girls bowl, swirls around a bit dips in.

"Hattie Marks!" she shouts.

Barely have the words left her mouth when Dominica is off, not bothering to yell out with the "I volunteer, because no one is checking. She sprints faster than she ever has, her black flat shoes hitting the ground, one of them falling off, strands of hair come undone from her ponytail, she is ahead almost to the stage.

A redhead is next to her. Easily recognizable, faster than her. Flavia gives her a smile and sprints ahead.

With a leap Dominica is on top of her, pinning her to the ground. The crunch is loud when she hits the concrete. But Dominica is back up, rushing forward another, younger, girl caught up. But as fist connects with face, she falls too.

It is over, she scrambles onto the stage. The man holds the microphone under her chin.

"And what is your name young lady?"

"Dominica Stiles" she is breathless from the fight.

"Lost a shoe there didn't you?" he jokes. She glares at him, easily 35 (though with all the capitol surgery she can't be sure) and he looks, frightened and turns away yelling hastily "Dominica Stiles your FEMALE TRIBUTE!"

The crowd cheers for her, she glances over, the young girl that she punched is being led away by her parents. Same with Flavia. She feels no remorse they were in her way after all, this was her prize.

Her eyes continue to search the crowd. Finding her twin amidst the other 16 year old boys. He makes eye contact with her. He is planning to volunteer too, they've both been planning for a while. But the rule change this year is good in only one respect (for her at least) in that she and her brother could both come home.

The male escort (his name is Lorcan she remembers now) plucks the second name from the boys bin.

"Glorean Borenova!" he calls, as more shouts rain in. Dominica's eyes are on her brother, who runs, sprints out of the crowd to the stage. He fights his way there and in fact, makes it nearly to the stage before a tussle breaks out and he gets caught in it. She is so focused on him that it takes her a few seconds to realize that a boy has joined her on stage.

She is highly pissed off that her brother is not in his place.

"And your name son?" Lorcan escort asks.

"Logan Huntzberger." the boy replies, breathless like she was.

"Shit," she thinks "I know him." He is sixteen also, her class, and his father won the Hunger Games too. Two years after hers, they live in the Victor's Village together. They even used to be friends (when Dominica was still too young to feel hate which was a very long time ago)

"And these," the escort yells "Are your district 2 TRIBUTES!" more screaming as they are led off.

Once in the Justice building they are broken off, without even a chance to greet one another (not that it really matters) and she is put in the ante-chamber to the right. A peacekeeper (one of her dad's friends in fact) smiles at her as they wait. A few minutes later her family enters. Her mother pats her on the head, which is as close as they come to real intimate contact, her father leans in and actually hugs her, which is awkward though he seems oblivious.

"We're so proud of you," he tells her smiling his huge grin "We will have another victor on the family tree."

He puts something into her hands which she examines. A small leather bracelet. Smaller than his wrist now, old and worn, it had been his token in the games. She hadn't even thought of a token.

"Now you can't lose." he encourages. She smiles for his benefit then turns to her brother who has stayed in the far corner thus far.

"You gonna miss me?" she asks loudly. He just sulks, obviously annoyed at the attention she's getting as well as her being a tribute and not him.

"I suppose," he says quietly and gives her a half-hearted arm hug.

"Damn it Dominic," she says, annoyed "I won't be seeing you for another almost 2 months and that is all you give me." she is very annoyed now, angry even, red around her eyes. He tries to hug her but she pushes him off. "Too late now dumb-ass." she pushes through her family to the door. The peacekeeper stops her. "Damn it, I'm going to the train not trying to escape." he lets her pass.

The train is in sight. She heads to the opening but is intercepted by Logan, her teammate.

"Hello again Dominica," he says confidently "We haven't talked in..."

She shoves him aside.

"Fuck off." she says quietly, boarding the train, clutching the woven bracelet and waiting to leave. Suddenly all too eager, to start these bloody games.

**Logan Huntzberger 16**

"Now which one is Greernook?" Logan Huntzberger's father asks.

A dozen or so plants are laid out in front of him all in varying shades of green and brown. This is so uninteresting in his opinion. They are god damn plants, nobody needs to know this much about plants.

Except that his father definitely thinks so. He stares at Logan expectantly.

"Okay" he thinks "Greernook..." he attempts to recall everything he knows about greernook. Which is nothing. He subconsciously runs a hand through his blond hair.

"I don't know dad." he replies, slightly annoyed.

"Yes you do." his father counters, "We've gone over this for months, how can you still not know? Choose one come on, you know this."

I hate the god damn plants dad, that's all. He thinks about it. Greernook, he definitely recognizes it, but he has no idea what it looks like, or what it does. He's pretty sure that it has round leaves, and maybe a flower. He chooses one of the 3 that look like that.

"Boy NO!" his dad shouts picking up a thin leaved flowerless stem. "This is Greermook. Now can you at least tell me what it does?"

"Does it," he racks his head again, runs his fingers through the light hair once more "Help cure snakebite?" he asks.

"Dammit boy no," his father is no longer yelling just annoyed "It helps fight infection on a deep wound. We've talked about this."

This is hopeless, Logan knows that too, he will never learn the plants, they've been studying for months and the most he can do is identify nightlock, but he didn't learn that from his father. 5 years ago a District 12 pair made it to the end and both tried to commit suicide. They both ended up winning. Everyone was so happy that both of the lovers made it back, the nightlock bush was now almost synonymous with love. Romeo and Juliet style (whoever those people were)

"Dad, this isn't doing any good. Anyways I'm just gonna kill everyone and get out of there." he jokes "Besides my teammate of course," he adds before his father can correct him.

10 years ago, his father had been in the same position. A 16 year old training with his father for the games. The young Michum Huntzberger was the second in the family to win the games (the first had been his great-great-great grandmother Naomi. He had studied all that he could and trained for hours everyday. In the end it was just him and a boy from 4 who hadn't eaten in over a day. His father, resourceful and smart, had found some edible roots and overtook the other boy.

This is the greatly abridged version of the story that 16 year old Logan had heard every single day of his life. As he trained to do the same.

But this is useless, he is not going to learn about all of the plants, anyways the reaping is in a little over two hours and instead of hanging out with his three best friends before leaving, he is stuck with his dear old dad studying everything he is hopeless at.

His complaints won't matter anyways, his father is dead-set on raising another winner. His older sister, Honor, is now 19 and therefore ineligible. So he has been getting all the attention, and all of this of course. To be honest, he would probably be going out for the Hunger Games father or not, but his old pop has been drilling him like crazy, it's gotten quite annoying and their, already constant, fighting has escalated to dizzying new heights.

But he's too tired right now to even fight about it. He was up all of the night before with his friends Finn, Roger and Colin and got shaken before dawn by you-know-who to practice with a sword. Which was ridiculous because that was where he was sure he'd never have trouble. But father insisted, so it had to be so.

"Father." he says, "There is no way I'm gonna remember all of this. We don't even have much time, can I please just go and enjoy it with my friends."

His father looks disappointed, a face that is so familiar that there Logan doesn't even feel bad anymore. HIs father is always disappointed. about his sparring, aim, and his failure with plants.

"Son, you are going into these games, what would it be if you were to get in there and die in a silly mistake. how much shame that would bring on all of us."

That was something he shouldn't have said. Anger wells up, sadness to, that perhaps all his father wants with him is a winner, maybe he has never been a son. But the anger is foremost and takes control. He flips the tray of specimen plants up, it soars through the air and hits the table again the stems flying around and into their faces, berries hitting the ground with little clicks and a large seed pod (from some plant he cannot name) splitting on the tile floor sending its cargo across the floor.

He stands up abruptly and runs out of the dining room. Through the side door and out into the yard which is covered in trees. He runs past them out of the side gate into the street, checking his watch. 10:02 he really should be getting down there to check in and get a good spot, no use taking chances.

In all honesty Logan wants nothing more than to be in the Hunger Games. Killing people doesn't scare him, the arenas don't scare him, very little scares him, the games may very well be fun, a simple challenge which he desperately wants. District is so boring, no good riots or anything.

The problem is that he wants to win the games his way, not his father's old way. Besides, plants are stupid, swords are fun.

He is suddenly aware of a person next to him. He glances up at his sister, Honor, who appeared quiet as ever.

"What's with the red face?" she asks.

"I um." he begins "I flipped the plant tray because dad was annoying me."

She starts to laugh "You did not?"

"I did." he responds. They begin to walk to the square. Logan has always been friends with Honor. There was no real need for sibling rivalry since it was pretty clear from the get go that she was not going to want to go into the Hunger Games. Dad still insisted though and she tried to make him happy but never wanted to.

They were similar looking. Medium framed pretty tall, large round blue eyes. But her hair was dark brown with some red.

"So, this is gonna be your last day," she says, it's not a question. At the same time as she had decided that the games were not for her Logan had been moving opposite. It was pretty clear that he was at his peak, he was ready, he would be the tribute and he wa pretty sure that he'd be victor too.

"Yeah, I won't be back for a while so, I guess I have to say goodbye to you now," he is very sad about this. He loves his sister, she is the best, they complain about dad together, she likes his friends and vice versa, but she is just subdued enough to calm him down if he gets angry.

They are in town, right next to the bakery.

"You wanna pick something out?" Honor asks, "I brought money."

"Yes I would." Logan says, they walk into the bakery, he has a crumbly scone with blueberries (One of the other, few plants he knows, and she picks a muffin. She pays and sits down, the baker at the counter smiles at them, as the offspring of a victor they are recognized everywhere.

"What are you going to miss most?" she asks once they've started eating, Logan is ravenous having had no breakfast that morning.

"I guess," he thinks about it 'You really, and my friends." she smiles.

"Are you just sucking up cause I bought you a scone?" she asks laughing.

"No I mean it, I'm going to miss you a lot,"

"Good thing it's only a month," she says. She's always believed so hard in him, she really thinks he can win, and it's that which will make him.

They eat the pastries in silence until he spots the line start to grow across the street and stuffs the rest of his in his mouth.

"I gotta go," he stands quickly "see you in the justice building." she gets up to give him a hug.

"Run fast," she says before he runs from the bakery into line.

Being one of the first he finds a good place near the front, then it's just waiting for over an hour. Colin joins him soon enough and then Finn. Unlike Honor they aren't asking him questions about being tribute, they just joke around for a while until their are for 16 year olds is packed.

Finally Lorcan, the escort, gets on stage and stands at the microphone. He is not quite as weird looking as the other Capital folk, but his hair has been shaped into intricate patterns on his head.

"Hello ladies and gentlemen. Today we begin the process to victory in the 79th annual Hunger Games." he starts "79 years ago there was an awful uprising." then goes the brief history of the Hunger Games "There is much pride in winning." now Logan is hanging onto every word, yes pride and glory, coming home to winning, fame fortune, his father's respect. He starts to daydream he and one other tribute standing, he heroically kills the last returns home, celebration, girls falling at his feet happiness.

He breaks out of the daze when the escort anounces. "And this year our two tributes will have a chance to return home, DUAL-VICTORS."

"True" he thinks, maybe he'd return with someone else, dual victory he likes the idea maybe they would get together in the end. Who knows?

He is choosing the girl now, Finding the name of some random girl he doesn't know before a crowd runs up. One girl is in the lead though he doesn't recognize her, she punches two other girls but makes it up as the volunteer with only one shoe on and a ripped red dress.

"And what is your name young lady?" Lorcan asks.

"Dominica Stiles" she responds. It hits him, the same Dominica who lives in the Victor's Village, they have the same classes and used to be friends, that is, before she pulled a crazy and went red. He is scared of her, but maybe that's good, she's strong and skilled and might be the best teammate he could ask for.

"Lost a shoe there didn't you?" the escort tries to joke. But he looks nervous for some reason and continues "Dominica Stiles your FEMALE TRIBUTE!"

More cheering. Lorcan goes to the boys bin, and Logan is ready to run right out the side into the aisle and up the the stairs. The man's hand seems to take forever, choosing a note unfolding it and shouting."Glorean Borenova!"

"I volunteer," his voice responds and he's off, down the aisle as fast as he can already there are others in front another boy outstrips him from behind, then someone just ahead falls or hits another and they go down, the boy who just passed him trips on the pile but Logan takes a huge leap and clears them, passes some younger kid and makes it to the stage tired and breathless.

"And your name son?" the escort asks without giving him a chance to catch his breath.

"Logan Huntzberger." he tries to sound steady but it comes out weak.

"And these," the escort yells "Are your district 2 TRIBUTES!" and they are cheered off stage.

Two peacekeepers wait and one leads him to another room where he waits for his family. They enter Mother, sister, and Father. He goes to his mother first hugs her (he is taller than her)

"Good luck darling." she says and kisses him on the cheek.

Next is his sister and they are both a little emotional at this she has a few tears in her eyes and he can feel them too though he fights them back. They don't exchange words either, they are unnecessary.

Finally it's his father. No hugs there.

"Son, you use everything I taught you," his voice is strained, like he is trying very hard to keep it civil. "You can win this if you just stop and think, don't be reckless and be good to your ally." It's true that he needs to think, but he's also very good at this, he could win easily.

There is a silent treaty, they will not leave this place angry. The peacekeeper returns a moment later and he goes with a final look at the family.

He sees the train and a very annoyed Dominica running towards it, "Allies" he thinks "I should make a good first impression."

He cuts her off in front of the train, trying to look as confident and calm as possible.

"Hello again Dominica," he reaches out his hand for a shake. "We haven't talked in..."

She shoves him away and he stumbles backwards and nearly falls. "Fuck off." she can hear her say.

This should be fun, he thinks and wonders, how he can possibly be allies with that girl? I suppose I'll find out, I just wish these games would start sooner.


	7. District 3 The Odds

**Hey guys, VERY long time no see. **

**My fault, bad bad bad I'm a terrible person. I hope you enjoy however. I'll try to return sooner than before, the two lovely tributes today were submitted by OfMockingjaysAndPrimroses and hey-finn. If you want to submit a tribute please fill out the tribute form and send me a private message. The Tribute List is an updated list of remaining tributes. Thanks!**

* * *

**Electra Gerlan**

Electra Gerlan is awoken by her sister's screaming.

Not that this is a particularly unusual thing, night terrors aren't uncommon in this house. After The Day there is rarely a quiet night in the Gerlan household.

That's why, when Electra (or Lectra as she is known) was 10 and been selected for the Gifted Academy and a chance to leave their tiny house, she had snatched it up. When The Day happened she had been so young only 6 years old, and her own brain had blocked the memory, thrown it away, responding to it as a disease, all reminders of it were gone. This meant though that the sadness of her father and sister were foreign, crippling, unreachable. But that didn't stop her from feeling them, even though she never understood why, living in a house perpetually mourning caused her to be distant, shy, scared.

The Academy had changed that, and living in her house for less than 2 days a week changed the young girl from a timid child to an intelligent, sociable (if introverted) adolescent.

But those less than two days could never leave her completely. And the screams at (she checks the alarm clock next to her bed) 3:28 in the morning were a constant reminder, The Day would never leave her sister.

Lectra rolls over on the stiff cot where she sleeps and covers her ears with a scratchy cotton pillow. Her thoughts turn to the Academy, her favorite place in the world, the beds are soft, they have silk pillows and sheets on the bunk beds. If she could she would bring those pillows home with her every week, but nothing NOTHING is allowed out of the Academy (though an exception was made for her glasses), what the students work on there is top secret save for the Capitol and mayor, even something as small as a pillow is not allowed out. No one ever tells them why, but they figured it out on their own. They are gifted students after all, and it wasn't too hard to figure out.

Kindle's screaming continues, her wails from just a few feet away, many other days of this has taught Lectra that trying to wake her, to stop her screams, are useless, that she must just try plug her ears and sleep.

She wakes up again hours later, unsure of how she ever managed to fall asleep again. She glances out the small window next to her bed, it would barely be big enough for her to fit through and even so is grated. She lives in the slums so to speak, though most of district 3 is in a similar spot. Concrete square houses with a few tiny windows and only what necessities can be spared. Many don't even have bathrooms.

The clock reads 8:47, she does the math, 3 hours and 13 minutes until the reaping and her father is probably gone by now, out doing odd jobs as usual. She's not worried about the imminent reaping, as a quick project her friend Fern calculated about how likely any one person is to get chosen based on the amount of tessera they applied for (she found that it was about 1 in 4,678.56). With a family of 3 and Lectra being the only one who qualified for them she had signed up for 3 same as all the years previous. It's small rations for the family, but it works, she's hardly home anyways, and the Academy feeds her. Plus the yearly input gives her 12 names in the bowl. 12 chances to be picked. Not very likely.

She pushes herself up to a sitting position and puts on her horn-rimmed glasses, aware that it is time to get up, there are things to be done to get ready for the reaping ceremony. Apparently they have to get dressed up to see two children off to die.

Her dress is a greyish green and basically shapeless (though Lectra isn't particularly shapely) and engulfs her tiny body. It used to be Kindle's and has a hole in the skirt. Not that it matters much to her how she looks. She slips the bag of a dress over her head and tries her best to pick the dust off of it and looks at herself in front of the only mirror in the house.

Kindle walks up behind her, easily a foot taller than Lectra but with the same sheet pale skin and blue eyes.

"Do you want me to do your hair?" Kindle asks in her soft wispy voice. Lectra nods and her sister begins to finger through her dark brown hair weaving it into some complicated braid, "Did I wake you up last night?"

Lectra nods, this is the morning routine. Kindle always asks about it, every morning. The answer is always the same.

"Sorry" another common refrain.

"It;s okay." it's like following a script, same words same way of saying. Same, same, same.

"Are you nervous?" Kindle continues.

"No, Fern calculated it, I have next to no chance of getting reaped."

Kindle herself has no chance of getting picked, at 24 she is already ineligible.

"That's good." she gets fed up with the braid which has come out all wonky, and puts Lectra's hair into a ponytail instead tying it up with a piece of string. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Nothing," she stands up "Xenon invited me for breakfast."

"Okay." Kindle leaves.

An hour later she is heading to Xenon's house under the usual grey sky. He lives in an area of relative wealth. His parents own the clothing shop in town so their home has plenty of food and even it's own electricity which itself is a rarity.

Three taps on the door, a real wood door rather than the usual curtains, and Xenon appears inside. He's tall extremely lanky with curly brown hair and the signature District 3 pale skin dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants, 17 years old, a whole 3 years older than she is, and one of her closest friends. And also her first and only crush.

"Hey Lectra," he greets her as she walks into the house, extravagant by her terms, chairs, a couch, electric lamp, and personal TV. "Fern's in the kitchen, breakfast is almost ready." They walk into the second room where her other friend is waiting at the table. Fern is small, 13 years old and skin almost as light as Electra's (though Lectra has skin that is pale even by the District standards) and wavy chestnut hair that falls in her face. She's been "dressed up" in a little blue dress and her "nice" shoes which went through her 4 other sisters before her. She's the youngest, only 13 years old, and like the other two, she attends the Academy.

They met 4 years ago when Lectra had first joined, a school for the best and brightest of which they certainly were. Fern had gravitated towards the older girl immediately, the Academy mixed younger and older students enough for them to meet, and Lectra was one of the other few ones there who came from the poorer area of the district. Most who attended were like Xenon, family wealthy enough to afford the entrance exams and with the food and living situation to develop the childrens' minds in the first place. But Fern and Lectra were from the slums, their parents had taken a risk, spending money on the initial test. And for them it paid off, free housing and food 5 days a week, classes that were taught by Capitol residents, Lectra had gotten a new pair of glasses that aside from letting her actually see the world as more than a blurry mound, had special abilities all their own. And telling employers that she was gifted had even gotten her a job making microchips on weekends.

Anyways, Fern and Lectra had bonded, Xenon had later begun talking to them after Fern had calculated his chance of becoming a Capitolite (she had a knack for math and chance) and he had been impressed enough to follow them. Perhaps it was his seniority, or his relative handsomeness, but soon after Lectra began crushing on him though her shyness impaired her from making any real moves.

Xenon's mother appears with a platter of food, eggs and toast with a bit of sugar sprinkled on it. It is more than either of the girls would be getting at home and they both thank the woman graciously before chowing down.

They chat over breakfast, school, teachers, family. They complain about parents who are just annoying, classmates who get on their nerves. Then, of course, the reaping comes up.

"I think it sucks that it had to be today," Xenon says mouth full of egg,"I heard we might be getting some sun today, and we can't even enjoy it on a day like this."

"Sun? Really?" says Fern in disbelief.

"I don't know, I just heard Miloni talking about it." Miloni is an Academy student who likes weather a lot.

"After the reaping do you want to go to the Wire?" Lectra asks. The Wire is what they fondly call one of the unguarded and unused factories. Many of the kids in the district hang out in and around the building. It was the sight of some of the Academy students' prank the year before. One that Lectra had taken part in.

"Yeah, I'll meet you after and we can go into the rafters," Xenon responds, excited, "Maybe there will be more ghosts up there." The other two laugh at the reference to the prank. He checks his watch.

"We should head down to the courtyard now to sign in." the other two girls clear their plates and leave walking through the tiny alleyways between each of the concrete houses and out onto the main road.

"Lectra!" a shout from behind as they walk along the shops. Lectra turns at her father's familiar voice. She turns and he's coming towards her, tall, dark haired, pale as her. He wraps her in his arms and hugs her close. "I wanted to say good morning and good luck before the reaping?"

She pushes him away lightly "It's fine dad, I'll be fine." she assures him.

"Still," he smiles and kisses her on the cheek. "I thought I should give you luck before you go."

Heat rises to Lectra's cheeks at the thought of her friends watching this. "It's okay dad really." she starts to walk away. "I'll see you after okay?" he nods and glances at her friends.

"Y'all have fun then." he waves at them and Lectra rejoins her other friends who continue to the entrance. The enormous Justice Building on which there is a huge metal disk with gears and a factory carved into it. The three sign in and give each other hasty, last minute goodbyes before being separated into their respective groups. Just before they leave Xenon gives her a hug, knowing she has more tickets in there than him. Even though he does the same to Fern a moment later she is blushing a little afterwards.

There is a long wait there under the cold sky. The stage is mostly empty. WIress and Beetee the two old winners are on stage, the are almost a legend around 3, been around for so long, they were born the year of the first Hunger Games. Next to them are a few more victors, the most recently is from 7 years ago, the second most recent, 30.

The escort, Cordelia, walks to the microphone. She stands on 5 inch heels with skin tinted fuchsia. She speaks in a prim and precise manner and adds little gestures with her fingers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls." she starts, "Welcome to the 79th annual reapings!" silence, unlike in the first two districts, there is no happiness associated with this event.

"For the past 79 years we have been choosing the names of two children, boy and girl, to compete in this time-honored event. The prize of winning is eternal glory" the speech is just as dull as any other year, Lectra becomes aware of her ponytail which is slipping down out of the string. "This year again we have two tributes entering the arena, but now, both may come out alive, together!"

The crowd responds a little to that, even though it is hardly likely to happen, it's still nice in a way, thinking that nobody may have to die. Still, a silly thought, District 3 is not known for it's champions. But then again, neither was District 12.

"We start with the boys," Cordelia continues quickly, trying to drum up the lackluster crowd. Her hand dips in the first spear and pulls out one note, the fate of that child in her hands. Unfolds it carefully checks the name.

"Cole Ashen!" she yells and Lectra's eyes search for the unlucky boy. She hears a girl nearby, a row to her right cry out in shock and looks to see, she is running to the railing crying out.

"COLE! NO PLEAse!" her voice cracks at the end as she begins sobbing throwing herself in the aisle, her long dark messy hair in her face, Down the aisle two Peacekeepers are walking briskly "Not my brother" she wails, Lectra's heart goes out to the girl, the first Peacekeeper takes her arm and she collapses into the dirt crying, they literally have to drag her away because she won't (or can't) stand. Lectra glances at the stage for the first time, a boy, taller than she is with the same grey eyes and black hair as the girl but they look about the same age. Probably twins, thinks Lectra.

He is looking into the crowd for his sister, his face is blank, no emotion at all, strikingly different from his sibling's.

"Any volunteers?" Cordelia asks briskly, silence again, they outburst, however emotional, is nothing rare or unusual. "Well then we continue to the girls."

Her hand dips in the second globe, Lectra tries to remember "1 in 4,678.56 1 in 4,678.56" almost no chance. But the nagging thought comes through, "what if it is you?" she dismisses it as best she can, "12 little cards with my name on it, nothing will happen, there are a thousand others for her to pick."

The woman clears her throat as the moment draws itself out.

"Electra Gerlan!" she shouts.

Her mind races. "1 in 4,678.56 1 in 4,678.56" it cannot be her it cannot be her there is no way that the name that was just called is her's. It isn't.

But the truth is plain enough, her name has been called. The world becomes blurry, like when she drops her glasses or has just woken up from a dream, nothing is quite adjusted, but there is a sense that she is moving though she is not consciously controlling it. Near the stage up the stairs, she manages not to fall, to where the fuchsia skinned woman stands.

The words echo like they are unreal "These are this years district 3 tributes!" and some clapping she and the Cole boy shake hands. A Peacekeeper grabs her by the arm and leads her through the door into the interior of the Justice Building and into the ante-chambe, instructing her to wait for her family.

There is where she freaks out. She starts to scream in panic. She's going to die, soon, die so soon. There is no way to avoid that, live TV she going to die. Her sister and father and best friends will have to watch her die. Then she will be nothing, nothing but another body, another one of 23, another number, another empty seat, another thing for her sister to scream about. She will not live to be 15.

The door opens, it's her father and sister looking hysterical, Kindle's cheeks have tear tracks already, her father is putting on a brave face.

They both embrace her tightly all of them shaking in the shock of it.

Her father "Electra, you are brilliant you are so smart, you can win I know.." he chokes up "I know you can, remember what the academy taught you."

She nods.

Kindle just stands there looking at her.

"I love you Lectra," she says quietly, "Please don't die out there." It sounds like a plea.

Her father is fishing something out of his pocket a chain with some charm on it. She looks at it. It's a thin leather rope with three wooden gears looped on it.

"It was your mother's Lectra," he says clasping her hands around it, "I wore it for every reaping to keep you girls safe, but now it can be used to keep you safe in the, arena. your token sweetheart, your token."

Another embrace that's tight, needing. Then it's another blur of Peacekeepers, and then she's on the train, away away.

1 in 4,678.56, 1 in 4,678.56, 1 in 4,678.56.

And she had to be the 1.

* * *

**Cole Ashen**

Cole is definitely running late.

There isn't a clock for him to check but by the way the sun is streaming through the window it has to be after 11. The reaping starts at 12! At this rate he won't be able to see his friends until afterwards.

He scrambles out of bed and throws on the blue pants and garish silk striped button down that he laid out the night before. It used to be his father's but it is truly awful. He hurries into the kitchen and grabs a roll from the table and eats quickly, he wonders where his sister is, she would have woken him up if she were here. He finishes the roll swallows it down quickly and is about to leave when his father walks through the door.

"Hello," says his father rather sharply with a curt nod. And Cole thinks that he has probably been drinking. He stumbles when he walks in and is leaning on the doorframe like he can't seem to get a grip.

They had fought the night before. Not that it was uncommon for them to fight or anything, but they were usually in bad spirits afterwards. Last night it had been about tesera. Cole's father had said that he needed to apply for it, Cole had said that no they didn't they were fine. HIs father said that business had been slow and a bit extra would help. Cole said that his father should sell off crap they didn't need. His father had asked "Like what" and then they had fought, Cole saying that they should sell their mothers old stuff His father said it was too precious. Cole said that he just wanted him to have extra names in the reaping so that he could finally get rid of his son.

Then he had run out of the house and run for a very long time. Running always calms him down, and he does it mostly when he's very mad, which means he runs a lot.

He nods back at his father just as tersely and starts once more towards the door before his father's voice stops him again.

"Why are you upso late?" he has definitely been drinking, his slurred words give it away all too well, "I's nearly time fer the reaping."

Maybe it's because he believes it's always there or maybe it really is, but Cole hears the hint of confrontation in his father's voice. Maybe he shouldn't take the bait, but he has to, it's his father, he can't let the man win.

"Maybe if you hadn't kept me up all last night with your shouting I would have been up earlier." he retorts.

"Well why didn yer siser wake you up?" he pushes the blame.

"Do you even know where the hell she is?" Cole asks. "You don't even look after your own daughter." His father seems to struggle with this for a moment before changing the subject.

"I wouln't have bin arguin if you ad jus agreed to help the family." he rushes the words together. The sick bastard coming in telling Cole that he's the bad guy while being piss drunk at the same time.

"Maybe you could have woken me up if you weren't so fucking drunk all the time." Cole's voice raising now, "Maybe we would have fucking money if you didn't drink, then there wouldn't have been an argument at all. It's funny how you refuse to sell mom's shit even when you are so drunk that you sleep with a different woman every night!"

His father's face turns from bright red to paper white in seconds. Then purple, blue, Cole wonders for a moment if he is going to die at the hands of this man, this man who he would abandon in a moment if he could, a man who he stayed with only because if he didn't the peacekeepers would find him and take him back, a man who he stayed with only because his sister would be too scared to leave. Maybe she would find his body here, or maybe this man would dispose of it before she could. For her sake, he hoped for the latter. His face turns red again, yellow, green.

Then his father throws up all over the floor and Cole runs out of the house.

Or he would if his sister hadn't entered at that very moment. She looks momentarily happy to see him before seeing the expression on his face.

Her gaze goes to behind him and she spots their father keeled over a puddle of his own sick.

"Oh," says Cole's twin softly.

"We're leaving Cass," Cole says taking her hand and pulling her from the house. She starts to pull back but he is insistent, he wants her away from this monster. And eventually she comes along through the corridors between the houses. He keeps walking until they are many blocks away, and only then does he realize that he has been going toward the town square. Instinct he supposes, from 14 years of reapings, this is both of their 15ths.

Almost at the same time he realizes that he has been very nearly sprinting since they left and he slows down, they are far enough away that he can begin to calm down.

Cassia walks up next to him catching her breath after the long run, she looks concerned.

"What happened this time" she says, her voice all seriousness. "What was the fight this time?"

"Just the shit he was pulling with trying to get me to get tessera and he was totally drunk and it was just... I was really pissed" she nods, "And I said stuff about his drinking and stuff and he got really mad. I thought he was gonna kill me."

Cole is already calming down considerably. The fact is he is actually quite calm, collected, level headed, but his father rubs him in just the right direction and makes him want to scream. Cas is the foil to his father, moments with her get him feeling better very quickly.

She is worried still. "I don't think that he would kill you though,"

It's a short time later that he's waiting in the courtyard, the escort stands on stage and a little further back is the mentor, an extremely tall lanky and surprisingly dark skinned man who looks rather menacing from afar. That was at least partly how he won, though Cole isn't completely sure of the specifics.

The microphone rings out "Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls." she starts, "Welcome to the 79th annual reapings!" which is greeted by no reaction. And then of course comes the speech which never interested Cole until the end, "This year again we have two tributes entering the arena, but now, both may come out alive, together!"

It's a nice thought, he supposes, both of the tributes returning, not a single family ripped apart (in his district anyways) it's hardly likely, but a bit comforting.

"We start with the boys," The escort announces swifly. And very soon after there's a

"Cole Ashen!"

Everything goes blank for a moment. The econds stretch into infinity and back they leave strips of white on his vision, he's going to be sick.

It's the cry of his own sister, hysterical that moves him. He must be strong, for her if no one else.

"COLE! NO PLEAse!" It takes all of his strength not to run to her like he has for the last 15 years.

"Not my brother" Her voice is pleading. He can't bare to look he tries to clear away any sign of feeling. He's on stage, he sees his sister, she's being carried by peacekeepers.

For a moment it is his every intention to race to her side and lift her up and comfort her.

He remains a statue.

"Any volunteers?" Says the escort, Cole almost feels like it's some cruel joke. "Well then we continue to the girls."

It's another moment.

"Electra Gerlan!" she shouts.

He sees an extremely skinny pale girl stumbling her way to the stage. How sad, he doesn't even get a good partner.

"These are this years district 3 tributes!" it is announced. He and the other girl, Electra, shake hands and he is led away.

It is only minutes later that his father and sister appear. His sister just holds him tight and cries into his shirt. Cole doesn't even shed a tear. It's true and terrible, he thinks, that the ones who hurt the most aren't the ones in the arena, but the ones left behind.

His father doesn't seem to comprehend what's happening and hardly looks at Cole.

Cas gets angry.

"Dad." she starts.

He doesn't react.

"DAD!"

Nothing.

"DAD YOUR ONLY SON IS BEING SENT TO THE HUNGER GAMES WHY AREN"T YOU LOOKING?" For the normally softspoken Cas such an outburst is highly unusual.

His father turns.

"You'll be fine son," he says, Cole is unconvinced, "Use your knowledge, anything, make friends with the other girl find out her strengths, kiss up to the sponsors too," His father comes close and grips him around the shoulders, "Don't you dare die out there Cole."

The Peacekeepers enter, his sister wails again, the Peacekeepers must pry her off.

He is led to the tran clutching onto the twin charm he wears, his only grip upon reality.


End file.
